Dust to Dust
by CurbItKirby
Summary: Set in 1944, The Howling Commandos set their sights on a weapon stronghold that isn't what it seems. Filled with people from all over Europe, Bucky personally liberates a young woman from her gurney and makes it his mission to make sure she fully recovers, physically and emotionally…even if that means putting aside his own feelings and helping her find her husband. Bucky/OFC REPOST
1. Chapter 1

_**Warning for depictions of the Holocaust, torture and racism.**_

For someone strapped to a table, the woman looked incredibly hostile. A chill ran down his spine at the sight of her, barely ninety pounds and glaring at him through gaunt, hollow features.

"Come on, Barnes. That one's not gonna make it," Jim warned him, his voice soft as so not to wake the dozing little girl in their Captain's arms. He clapped the Sergeant gently on the back and stepped away to help another of the prisoners out of the vile building.

It was barely standing, with a series of cells lining the corridor. Each cell was barely four by four feet, each cell with equipped with chains used to keep the prisoners complacent. The walls were concrete, high and strong despite the decrypt look of the outside. All of the intelligence had suggested it was HYDRA's haven for some kind of advanced weaponry. In many ways, unbeknownst to the American soldiers at the time, it was. The few people that were held captive had been taken from various parts of Europe. Most of them came from labor camps. All of them were thin and frail looking, but none compared to the woman in front of him.

Bucky couldn't tear his gaze away, not from her fierce green eyes or her tight set mouth. Pulling the knife from his belt, he began to cut away the thick leather that tied her to the gurney. He could vaguely remember his time spent as an unwilling test subject for HYDRA's sick experiments. It was more or less a blur of sensations. Of pain and faint memories of the procedures that did left him feeling like they had split open his skull and picked him apart, piece by piece and left him empty. The delirium was his most prominent memory, but she didn't seem to have that. Ripping the last restraint from her arm, he moved to help her sit up. Her sallow skin was dry and cracking from dehydration. It stretched tight across her fragile bones. Bucky could see just about every single one in her hand and he kept his touch delicate as he eased her forward.

"Can you stand?"

An almost bitter smirk crossed her thin lips. Her voice, while raspy and brittle, had a bite to it that he hadn't been prepared for. "You better believe I'm walking out of this place."

"You're American?" He asked with surprise as she swung her legs over the edge of the gurney. They were long, but much like the rest of her, frighteningly thin. Bucky vaguely wondered if they would be able to keep her upright as she slipped off the gurney.

The woman was tall, nearly his height and held her head high despite her weak state. She took his arm when he offered it, but didn't lean as much of her minuscule weight on him as he would've expected her to. With shaky fingers clinging to the drawstring of her baggy white pants, she nodded. "From Arkansas."

"Of course." He slid a hand to her lower back to steady her. "I should've known by the accent."

She smirked again, this time not quite so aggressively. Despite being terribly sunken into their sockets, her eyes shone at him with amusement. "Don't get fresh with me, soldier. I'm a married woman, after all."

They shared a mirthful glance before he helped her take her first uncertain step forward. The pace was slow, but with all the bustling going on around them no one noticed the strange couple as they made their way outside. The Southern woman cringed as the sunlight hit her eyes. It was the first natural light she had seen in months. Thankfully, her eyes adjusted quickly. The icy green orbs flickered across the various trucks and people curiously. The fresh air was cold, biting almost, but she welcomed it. She had lived in a cavern of stale, humid air and blank walls for so long; the rush of colors and movement was almost too much for her to bear. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she swallowed them back. Her gripped tightened on the man's arm, but she didn't look at him.

Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the wind on her face a moment before speaking. "Are they dead?"

Bucky glanced at her. "Who?"

"The men who did this to us," She clarified, her eyes slowly parting, as so not to be offended by the sun. Her gaze flickered over to where a few of her fellow inmates sat on the back of a truck. The pair of young men were brothers, she knew, although one could tell just by their similar bearing. They looked exhausted and pale. The lone black woman stood beside the younger of the two men met her gaze and gave her a cordial nod. She looked just as tired and ashen as the others, but her eyes gleamed with familiar rage that the Southern found incredibly assuring. She continued to look, but couldn't see the mop of dark curls that had haunted her and felt an icy hand grip her heart as tear once again pricked her eyes.

"Yeah." He gave her hand a pat, his touch warm in the brisk air. "They're all dead."

It should have been a comfort to the woman, but it only left her cold. She didn't want them dead. She wanted them to suffer. To starve in a cage like an animal. To be cut open and _left_ open. For them to choke on their own blood and be left to rot in their own filth. She wanted them to die by her terms. Instead of voicing her thoughts, she merely nodded. "Good."

The Sargent thumbed the back of her hand, wincing as the digit skipped over the protruding knuckles under her skin. "What's your name?"

Her eyes narrowed on him suspiciously. "What's _your_ name?"

"James Buchanan Barnes," He told her with a smile. It lit up his features, transforming them from a worn soldier to a handsome young man. It lingered in the corner of his mouth, brightening his blue eyes as he peered at her with expectant curiosity.

"Salome. Salome Lavergne." The woman didn't return his smile, but she did incline her head with respect.

His blue grey eyes widened a touch as Bucky momentarily panicked. There was no way he was going to be able to pronounce that. He let his smile fall into an easy smirk, "Pleased to meet you, Sal."

Her eyes narrowed a touch before she mimicked his arrogant expression. "You too, Jamie."

"Don't call me Jamie."

His bristle earned a grin from her. A real one, bright and warm in a way he didn't think possible with her haggard appearance. Her skin tight across her cheeks and eyes still deep in their sockets, she looked more like a skeleton than a woman, but the smile was a welcome change from her bitter smirks and naturally grim expression. "Don't call me Sal."

"Why not? Is Sally better?" The man licked his lips and carefully steered her over to a truck. When she realized where they were headed, she was peered over his shoulder with interest, looking at the other prisoners with confusion. He went on in hopes of distracting her, "You don't really seem like a Sally."

"Shouldn't I be with them? Why are you separating us?"

There was fear in her voice now, but her gaze remained hard. It made Bucky's stomach tighten, and he was quick to assure her that he was just taking her to the medics. To get her checked out, to get her to lay down since she was in so much worse shape than the others. That she would be taken care of.

The woman wretched her arm away from his. "We stay together."

"You really need medical attention-"

"Last time I was separated from someone I loved I got sent to a shower that spewed only gas." Salome shook her head, voice pleading and eyes wet, she begged, "If you mean us no harm, don't separate us. And if you do, let us die together."

His hands gripped her shoulders, his thumbs crushing her jutting collarbones and his grip almost painfully tight as Bucky glared into her eyes. Gaze fierce and almost wild, he growled, "They're never going to touch any of you again, you hear me? Do you understand?"

When she only stared at him, he cleared his throat and dropped his gaze to the prominent bones of her sternum that were visible over the neck hole of her baggy white undershirt. "You're not a prisoner anymore."

_Yes I am_, she thought to herself, _I'm just trading their cage for yours._ Salome nodded none the less. More to appease the desperate man in front of her in a vain attempt to get him to let her go. Salome could feel the bones in her shoulders starting to bend, close to snapping under his hands and Bucky could to. He blinked and apologized, giving her narrow shoulders and arms a rub in consolation as he offered her a tight smile. She had seen the expression on many faces in lifetime, had seen desperation and fear in many forms. The kind in his face was fresh, a new wound struggling to heal and she nodded her forgiveness empathetically.

"I'll take you to your friends," Barnes promised. He swallowed and gently took her hand again. This time his touch was incredibly light, as though he was handling glass, as if he was making up for his rough treatment. "Come on."

_**A/N: I had deleted this story, but it won't leave me alone so I'm bringing it back. **_


	2. Chapter 2

While the reunion of the prisoners was hardly an enthusiastic one, it was heartfelt. Salome hugged the woman as tightly as she could, relishing in having physical contact with someone other than the twisted staff that ran HYDRA (and an admittedly pleasant, if not intense, stranger) for the first time in over two years.

Maren stroked her friend's blonde hair in a gentle, almost maternal way, despite their seemingly close age. "Oh god, you had us scared, Mae."

The blonde chuckled faintly. Sniffing back her tears, she pulled back to look at her. Maren was a few inches shorter than her, with clear dark brown skin and a shaved head. Much like Salome's own , her hair just starting to grow out. Although thin, Maren lacked the gaunt, skeletal look of her friend, something Salome was incredibly thankful for. She cupped the French woman's face in her hands and let out a soft laugh.

"I love what you've done with your hair." Salome told her with a wink.

Maren rolled her eyes, though they twinkled with mirth. Giving the taller woman's short blonde locks a tug, she replied, "It seems to be in fashion."

"Maybe you'll start a trend," The man sitting on the bed of the truck that was parked beside them quipped. His mouth hadn't moved, still locked in a bright, youthful grin. Julien had always been quick with a smile and it was nice to see it still so warm after such hardship. "All the pretty girls will want to borrow their father's razors."

"Oh, you think you're just so charming, don't you?" Maren asked him with a smile. She ruffled his hair, thick and so much longer than their own sheared locks.

His brother, Roman, chuckled beside him and stood. He and Salome embraced briefly before they separated. "Glad to see you can still stand on your own two feet."

She nodded, "You too." Her gaze fell to the frost hardened ground. They were both barefoot, but immune to the cold after so long in the barracks. "Do you know what they did with Hanna?"

"She's in another truck. One of the is having her checked out by a doctor."

The woman's shoulders sagged with relief. Her fingers came up to rest against her lips. "Oh thank god."

"God has nothing to do with it," Roman told her with a hint of bitterness in his dark eyes. "I think we should probably be thanking the Allies."

The group was quiet a moment. The silence was slightly tainted by the crowd around them. Maren laced her fingers with the blonde's and gave her a slight pull toward the truck.

"Come sit down, you look like your about to collapse," The woman ordered, her hands steering her toward the truck.

Salome rolled her eyes but did as she was told. She slipped in beside Julien, who was quick to wrap his coat around the woman's boney shoulders. When she asked whether or not the Americans were aware of their disorders, the younger man shook his head. He was little more than a boy really, barely twenty with youthful features that shone with optimism and kindness despite their situation. She thought he looked very handsome. When he heard that, Julien blushed, faintly tainting his olive skin a light pink.

He had just sent a very gentle nudge into her ribs when a soldier approached them. Tall, blond and barrel chested, the man smiled at them. It seemed genuine, if not a little weary, and he inclined his head to both ladies-something that surprised Maren and earned a small smirk from her, before he spoke, "Hi, just wanted you folks to know we'll be leaving in a few minutes."

The group stared blankly at him a moment before the Arioff brothers shared a look and a small smile. It was the elder who spoke, his features grim as he offered his hand, "Thank you. For everything you've done."

"Happy to help," The Captain shook his hand. "I'm sorry we didn't get here sooner. HYDRA had this listed as a weapons stronghold on all their maps." He lifted a curious brow at Roman, "Any idea why that is?"

The brunette man shrugged. His features were bland, almost disinterested, but the others didn't miss the clench of his fists. Julien cleared his throat subtly. Roman glanced at him before meeting the Captain's gaze once more. With a quick lick of his chapped lips, he told him, "They were experimenting on us. Seeing how much the human body could take. I suppose they could've used their…findings, to fuel whatever it was they were making."

The blond nodded. It wasn't pitying, but rather sympathetic. "I understand. Many of the men in this unit were captured by HYDRA a few months ago. If anyone knows what you're going through, it's them."

"_Cap!"_ A voice called in the distance. "_We could use some help here!"_

The Captain smiled tightly at the wan looking group. "Well, I should go. My name's Steve. Steve Rogers. If you need anything just ask around, or ask for me directly. I'll make sure you get it, okay?"

"Thank you, Captain." Maren said with a smile. It promptly fell when he was out of ear shot. Looking back at her fellow inmates, or rather, fellow former inmates, she asked, "What now? What if they find our records?"

"They're in German," Julien reminded her with a smirk. "Americans don't speak German."

Salome wrapped his coat closer to her narrow shoulders. "Who cares? What could they do to us that hasn't already been done?"

A silence fell over them at that. It was only a few minutes before they were on the road, and a few hours they were in a small camp on the outskirts of the Rhine valley. The forest was dense and ominously quiet. The sounds of cheers and laughter quickly filled the air as the soldiers began to file out of the trucks, greeting their fellow comrades in arms. Maren laced her fingers through Salome's and the blonde gave them a light squeeze.

Her pale features barely visible in the falling darkness, she offered her a weak smile. "I don't know about you, but I'm dying to stretch my legs out."

"I think we'd be safer in the truck," Maren replied stiffly, almost sarcastically, but followed her friend as she slowly crawled toward the back of the vehicle.

Salome rolled her eyes. "Aren't you sick of being coped up like a couple of hens? Come on, let's go check things out. See if we can find Hanna."

At the mention of the six year old, Maren agreed. They had barely made it out of the truck when a man approached them. Recognizing him from earlier, the woman inclined her head when her friend stiffened.

"Jamie," Salome greeted with a smirk.

He returned it good naturedly, his bright eyes twinkling in the dim light. "Sal. Just the lady I was lookin' for." He nodded to Maren and offered his hand. "James Barnes."

"Maren," The shorter woman replied. Her mouth tense, she squeezed Salome's hand as she shook his.

"Nice to meet you," The man told her. His eyes skirted back over to her companion, taking in her hollow cheeks and pale skin with morbid interest. "I was just heading to the medic tent. All of you are supposed to get checked out, I thought I'd take you personally." He winked at her, but there was no mirth in his eyes. "Make sure they treat you right, I mean."

"What did I tell you about making passes at me?" The blonde asked with a crooked grin.

"Didn't mean to get under your skin, honey." His smile widened, a bit more real than it had been. If they weren't mistaken, the women could see a hint of color on his tan cheeks. "But you really should get checked out."

"We will," Salome promised. She gave Maren's hand a very gentle tug and led her away from the soldier. "After we see Hanna."

Bucky's brow creased as he repeated, "Hanna?" He watched them go with confusion and once they were a few feet away, he called, "I'll wait for you by the medic tent, alright? Don't take too long! The Colonel's waiting!"

The women ignored him. They walked around the camp slowly, avoiding the men's gazes and met the occasional greeting with stiff smiles and no words. They couldn't hear her, so they assumed the child was still asleep somewhere, which wouldn't have been surprising. Hanna had spent a good chunk of her recovery time asleep. They had encouraged this, telling her that she would grow while she slept, that they were perfectly safe from harm when her eyes weren't on them. It was very easy to lie to a child after all.

For a few minutes, the two walked in silence. Eventually, their presence was noticed by an older gentleman, an officer and they were led to the medic tent by a gruff man with grey hair. He stopped them with a frown and asked just where it was they thought they were going. Apparently their answer was less than satisfactory, given how hard the older man rolled his eyes at it.

Bucky looked up as they approached the tent. He had been waiting a few minutes for them and offered them a weak smirk, but didn't interrupt his commanding officer's little speech with a greeting of his own.

"Now, I understand that you ladies might be a little skittish given your, uh, history with HYDRA," Colonel Phillips told them. His voice was rough, his tone stern and his words rang with a false sincerity that both women found terribly amusing. "But I can't have some kind of outbreak of some strange German disease because you two are too shy to get checked out. Now, I assure you our doctors are the utmost professional-"

His words were somewhat dampened, as the moment they stepped into the tent one of his _utmost professional doctors_ was too busy shoving his tongue down a nurses throat to even notice their arrival. Maren and Salome looked over at the Colonel with doubtful frowns. Bucky let out a snort behind them, his attempt to smother his laugh forcing it out through his nose. The ladies ignored him, instead watching curiously as Philips face slowly turned an alarming shade of red they had not seen before.

"_HOWARD STARK!"_ The Colonel bellowed. The two women tensed, but didn't take their admittedly shocked gazes from the man's busy hands or the woman's flushed cheeks. Behind them, Barnes cackled. Phillips paid him no mind. "_WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT FRATERNIZING IN THE MEDICAL BAY AREA?! THIS IS A STERILE AREA!"_

The young couple wretched apart. The man's tan cheeks flushed in embarrassment, but a cocky smirk crossed his lips. They were smeared with bright red lipstick. "Philips, my good man, I wasn't expecting you back so soon."

"I can see that," He replied through clenched teeth. The Colonel's glare shifted to Bucky (who was still snickering to himself). "And just what the hell are you doing here anyway, Barnes?"

Clearing his throat, he placed a hand on Salome's shoulder. Cheeks still pink from laughter and with a wide grin on his face, he replied, "Moral support."

Phillips rolled his eyes. "I better not come back to a repeat performance of what I just wanted in on, Sargent."

"I'm married," Salome told him with a frown. The indignity in her voice was palpable, but the officer was already leaving.

"A pity," Stark told her. His expression was lax now, no longer embarrassed, nor did he seem even slightly concerned about the red lipstick staining his thin mustache. His smile was natural and smug and when he offered his hand, neither of the women reached for it. They knew all too well where it had been.

Maren eyed the man in front of them skeptically. If the Barnes boy had Salome's trust, he had Maren's, but the skinny mustached man had done little to endear himself to her. "You're the one who's going to be running the tests?"

"Indeed I am, Miss…?"

The brunette dismissed his question with one of her own, "Are you qualified?"

"Exceedingly."

Maren still looked doubtful. Catching the distrusting expression out of the corner of her eye, Salome stepped forward. "I'll go first. What do you need me to do?"


	3. Chapter 3

Unsurprisingly, the women did not respond to being poked and prodded by the promiscuous man very well. They were silent as Howard ran through the typical tests. Neither flinched when he checked their heart beats or blood pressure. Both obediently opened their mouths when he checked their throats for any sign of swelling or infection. For the most part, they were the perfect patients.

"Well, we'll just check your weight before we move on to the blood tests."

Bucky arched a brow. He was leaning casually against the examination table, watching curiously as Stark led the ladies over to the scale. "Shouldn't a nurse being doing all this?"

Howard rolled his eyes over to him in a way that was both overdramatic and accusatory. "Well, she was going to before _someone_ scared her off and left me to do all the grunt work."

The Sargent merely smirked at him. With a huff of annoyance, Howard led Maren over to the scale and quickly made a note of her weight. He wasn't terribly surprised by the number- by the looks of her, the petite woman was certainly malnourished, but would most likely make a full recovery with no foreseeable problems. It was the blonde he was most concerned about. With her skeletal frame and sallow skin, Salome was hardly the picture of strength.

"So," He continued, helping Maren off the scale with a smirk that earned a suspicious glare from the woman. "When will you be convincing the others to come get their checkups?"

Salome took his hand when he offered it and stepped on to the scale. Brushing a short strand of brittle hair behind her ear, she watched as he slid the dial around. "I had assumed they'd already been in."

"They have not." His brown eyes flickered over the number and he repressed the urge to wince. She was barely ninety pounds. Unsurprising and quite sad, he thought.

The blonde smirked at his uneasy expression. "Very subtle, doctor."

"I'm not actually a doctor."

"Then what are you?" Maren asked from behind them. Her voice was tense, as were her features and they only darkened further when the man's eyes landed on her.

A charming smile rose over his lips as he turned to face her. Ignoring her scowl, he told the woman, "I'm a scientist. A damn good one, too."

Her glare hardened as Salome stepped off the scale. Maren sneered at him, "No one told us we were test subjects."

"Nothing so dramatic, I assure you." Howard told her with a smirk. "We just want to make sure you're healthy."

The women shared a glance, but chose to remain silent. They leaned against the wall, a few feet from where Bucky sat on the exam table and watched as Howard fluttered about the medic tent. He jotted a few things down, gathered a few supplies and motioned them over to the table with an absent minded wave of his hand they both found to be slightly demeaning.

Salome approached him first, guiding her friend by the hand to look over Howard's shoulder curiously. She was just barely shorter than him, she noticed, but didn't think much of that. Her gaze landed on a series of needles and she let go of Maren's hand. Picking one of them up, she rolled it between her fingers.

With an arched brow, Salome asked, "Can't we skip this part?"

"We need to make sure you're not carrying any blood borne contaminants." He replied. In truth, they were also slightly worried about biological warfare, but thankfully so far nothing they had found in the HYDRA stronghold suggested they had that kind of technology. It was mostly just filled with files and rolls of video film and some seriously unsettling lab equipment. Very gently, Howard took the needle from her and set it back on the table before he pulled on a pair of medical gloves.

"If you try to stick me with that needle," Maren warned the scientist as he turned to face her with said needle in hand. Her beautiful features were grim and hard without an ounce of humor to be found in them. "I'm going to jam it down your urethra."

Howard's tan features went very pale. Clearing his throat, he simply sidestepped her and moved on to Salome. The blonde smirked at him, but offered her arm without resistance. The man seemed incredibly relieved by that.

"Well," Howard cleared his throat with a smirk. "I'm glad _someone_ understands the importance of good health."

He helped her onto the examination table beside Bucky, who had been listening attentively to their exchanges. The Sargent gave her side a playful nudge, earning a small smile from her as Howard wrapped a tourniquet around her skinny arm. The soldier briefly wondered if he would have been able to wrap his fingers around her bicep, if the tips of his fingers would touch around the thin appendage, but pushed the thought to the back of his mind with a weary frown.

As the needle slipped into the other woman's pale skin, Maren made a doubtful sound in the back of her throat. She watched her friend's blood wind down the tube with worried interest, but was more focused on the young Sargent who was watching Salome so intently. He hadn't said much when the needle slipped into her skin, only winced sympathetically and let his hand graze her own. The blonde slapped it away. Maren snickered at the annoyed expression on the man's face.

"I was just trying to be comforting," Bucky told the woman with a frown.

Howard removed the needle from her arm and slipped a cotton ball over the small puncture wound left behind. It was unnecessary, the pinprick no longer bleeding and already healed the moment the needle left her skin. No one noticed.

The scientist held the vial up to his eye and gave it a little shake. "That should be enough. You may want to lay back- given your fragile state, I wouldn't be surprised if you experienced more than the typical dizziness."

"I'm fine." Salome slipped off the table with a surprising amount of grace. She patted it, the paper crinkling softly under her touch as she turned away from the Sargent to face Maren. With a small, encouraging smile, nodded to the table. "Your turn, _draga_."

The shorter woman frowned, anxiety playing on her face as she got up on the examination table. The blonde moved to stand in front of her, subtly letting her fingertips rest against Maren's knee while Howard jotted her name down on the vial of blood and readied a fresh needle.

"So, tell me, have you ladies been experiencing any flu like symptoms?" He asked. As he moved back to them, he shoved a notepad into Bucky's arms. The soldier looked at him questioningly and Howard sneered at him, "If you're going to gawk, make yourself useful."

The taller man glared down at him but uncapped the pen with his teeth regardless. Salome regarded him with interest, but averted her gaze when the boyish Sargent shot her a wink. She shook her head and moved, though only slightly, out of the scientist's way as he moved to rub a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic along the inside of Maren's elbow.

"No. No fevers, no nausea." The blonde squeezed her friend's knee as Maren clenched her teeth.

Her dark brown eyes met Salome's green ones and she let out a pant through her nose as Howard slipped the needle under her skin. The blonde stroked her friend's knee through the thin cotton of her pants, her gaze never leaving Maren's.

A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth as Salome spoke, "We've been over this, Stark, but the distraction's appreciated, I'm sure."

Voice soft, the man let out a quiet, "There we go…the hardest part's over and done with, darling." He grinned at her, but it faltered when he noticed the woman's stiff posture and how tightly she was gripping the edge of the table. His brown eyes shifted to Bucky. "Say, Barnes, why don't you go get these two lovely young things something to wear while I finish up? It should only take a few minutes."

Howard gently took the needle out and Maren let out a long sigh. Her brow came down to rest on Salome's, her features tired and meek as she smiled at her friend. "Thanks, Mae."

"Glad I could help," the blonde replied with a smirk. They pulled away, but Maren remained on the table, although she was resting considerably easier now that the needles were put away.

The man glanced curiously at the taller woman, but nodded none the less. The Sargent touched her back gently, earning her attention and yet another eye roll. "I'll be right back."

"This overprotective streak is beginning to wear on my nerves, James." Salome probably wouldn't have been so adverse to it if she hadn't enjoyed it so much, but she was a married woman and propriety only allowed for so much flirting with the young man before it became disrespectful. Her throat tightened at the thought of her husband, but she kept her head high.

"I'm just trying to help."

Her green eyes narrowed on his handsome, if not rueful, features.

"No one asked you to." They softened slightly, but her tone remained firm. "Thank you for getting us out of there, we owe you a great debt but don't think that I need constant supervision, Sargent."

"Right." He nodded, more to appease her than out of agreement. Ignoring her frustration, he swept his gaze over her. It rested on the sharp contours of her collarbones, just barely visible from where her undershirt hung forward, flashing a protruding sternum. Bucky bit his lip at it before admitting, "I don't know if I'll be able to find anything for you."

"Why not?" Howard asked as he picked up a chart. "I'm sure the barracks has some form of inventory."

"It's not that…"

Salome arched a brow at him as Howard began to check Maren's vision behind them. They had moved on to the basic checkup procedure, something Salome was thankful for since she could now give the Sargent her full attention. "Then what is it?"

"I don't know if I'll be able to find anything that'll fit. I mean, you're awfully scrawny, Sal." Bucky told her with a concerned frown. As her green eyes widened at him, he thought of his words and winced. His cringe only became worse as her cheeks flushed a bright, embarrassed red. The color harsh and obvious on her pallor features, the soldier swallowed and began to back track. "I didn't mean- well, I _did_, but I didn't mean that you look- well, you do look pretty bad, but it's not _you_ it's just your body-"

"_Barnes!"_ Howard snapped at him. He seemed to be horrified by both the man's lack of tact and his total lack of sexual prowess. The latter was surprising, considering this was Barnes and not Rogers, but it was the former that got him kicked out of the medic tent. "Why are you still here, huh?! Go!"

"But I didn't mean-"

"_Get!"_

Bucky gaped at him. "I'm not a dog, Howard."

The man of science continued to make shooing motions at him and continued to do so until the Sargent reluctantly left the med tent. Flamboyantly shutting the curtain they called a door, Howard spun back to look at the women. Maren seemed amused, but her smile didn't reach her eyes. Salome was still blushing. He frowned at that, but it only lasted a moment.

Clapping his hands, he told her, "Never mind him, he's an idiot. You look fine, well, you're a little thin, but that's nothing time can't fix. Otherwise the both of you appear to be in perfect health."

"Does that mean we can go?" Maren asked with a bright smile- or at the very least, the most genuine he had seen from her yet.

"No!" Howard chirped mockingly. "I haven't checked your reflexes or hearing yet!"

Both women stiffened. They shared a quick look that the man didn't totally understand. Salome, now pale faced and a little shaky handed, licked her lips and stepped toward him with her hands not so casually stuck in the pockets of her baggy sweats.

"Is that really necessary? I mean, HYDRA didn't take us for our ears, after all."

Howard eyed them suspiciously. "If that's the case, why so much reluctance, Mae?"

"Don't call her _Mae_," Maren warned him. Her eyes were hard as she slid off the exam table. Lips pulled back in a sneer, she glared at him. "We're done here. We've let you do your little tests. Now where are our friends?"

"The gentlemen you came in with?" He asked with a raised brow of his own. "I heard they were spending the night in the barracks."

Curious and a bit skeptical, Salome stepped between Maren and Howard. As she took the woman's arm in a gentle hold, she asked, "How come they got to sleep and we didn't?"

Her friend went to pull her away, clearly unimpressed with the man for a reason he himself couldn't comprehend, but Salome remained rooted to the spot as she waited for an answer.

"They just kind of went in there on their own…" The scientist replied with a shrug. "We figured we'd let them sleep and start with you. Ladies first, after all."

He winked at them, but their expressions didn't change. Maren; fierce and guarded, Salome; mute and a bit wary, the women were hardly the picture of understanding. Vaguely, Howard wondered where he had lost the latter. While Maren had clearly never trusted him in the first place, he had thought he had won the taller woman over with his charming personality and good looks.

"Where will we be sleeping, Mr. Stark?"

Clearly not. Howard offered her a tight smile and held the tent flap open for them. "Allow me to show you personally, my dears."

With only a cold glance, the women stepped out of the tent.

**A/N: Oh Hodge. You are such an asshole. **


	4. Chapter 4

The nurses' quarters weren't very large, but the few spare cots they had were more than suitable for the two women. Howard waited patiently by the front of the tent, ignoring the questioning looks the enlisted ladies shot his way as the former prisoners poked around. When they noticed someone was missing among the rows of makeshift beds, they shared an almost frantic look.

It was Maren who turned back to him. With a worried crease in her brow, she asked, "Where's Hanna?"

"The girl?" He scratched his neck absently. The nurses were watching him with something akin to hostility, no doubt having shared stories about his promiscuous ways around the barracks. Quite frankly, their stares put him on edge. The man shifted from foot to foot, his gaze flickering over to the tent flap as he continued, "She's bunking with Agent Carter."

Salome's gaze whipped over to him. She had been eying one of the cots with interest, or maybe it was longing, but now her full attention was on him. Voice choked, she managed, "_What_?"

"Agent Carter." The scientist repeated, his hands tucked carefully in his back pocket, trying to seem as nonchalant and innocent as possible as the nurses began to whisper behind their hands. Ignoring them, he explained, "She offered to share her quarters with her. Figured it'd be less traumatic to share a room with one woman than a dozen."

The blonde's shoulders slumped with relief. A somewhat embarrassed smile crossed her lips as she rubbed her forehead sheepishly. "Oh. Well. Could we see her?"

The man shrugged. "I don't see the harm in it…she's probably still asleep, you know."

"We'd like to see her." Maren repeated. Her features, while still sharp and a bit distrustful, were softer than they had been, almost anxious in the dim lighting. With a smirk that was obviously very forced(but the effort was appreciated), the shorter woman added, "Please?"

Howard nodded. He spun on his heel and beckoned them to follow without so much as a word. The women shared a glance at his dramatics, but merely trailed after him. Salome smirked and gave her friend a light nudge.

"Did you see the eyes those nurses were giving him? I thought that redhead was going to rip out his heart and eat it."

"Don't gossip, Mae," Maren suppressed a smile over her own. "You're better than that."

The blonde shook her head, a dry chuckle slipping from her cracked lips. "I'm really not."

"Well, pretend to be."

"Ladies," Howard turned and frowned at them, a glint of good natured humor in his eyes as he chided, "I can hear you."

"So?" Salome shrugged, her loose undershirt flashing gaunt, shockingly pale collarbones to the darkness that shrouded them.

The man pursed his lips. "I never pegged you for the cruel type, Ms. Lavergne."

"That's Mrs." She corrected with a raised finger. Her other hand was preoccupied with Maren's, who was rolling her eyes at their complete lack of tact. "And you've known me all of an hour, Mr. Stark; let's drop this charade of false familiarity, hm?"

He arched a brow at her almost mocking tone. "Is this because of the hearing test?"

"It's because you're a _putain_ and we don't appreciate your rather lackluster attempts at seduction." Maren told him. Her mouth was tight but her eyes were surprisingly warm, at least, compared to how cold they had been only a few minutes prior.

Howard gaped at her. After a moment, he composed himself. "You certainly have a way with words, don't you, Ms. Baudin?"

The shorter woman lifted an apathetic shoulder as Salome laughed. "I like to think I do."

The man squinted at her, opened his mouth and promptly shook his head. With a startling amount of haughty defiance for a grown man arguing with two grown women over his supposed debauchery, Howard crossed his arms at them. "I refuse to be looped into your childish name calling."

"Good, you'd lose."

"Anyway, we're just about there- before we meet the lovely Agent Carter, I feel I must once again, remind you that your dear little Hanna will most likely be asleep." The scientist spun once more on his heel and crooked a finger for them to follow as he continued, "And Peggy will probably be less than thrilled with being interrupted."

With a bit of bewildered alarm, Maren asked, "Just what is it you think she's doing?"

"Paperwork, what else?" he replied as they strolled up to a lone tent.

It was separated from the other rows and none of the livelihood that the others had seemed to radiate from it. Instead, it seemed cold and desolate, which given the surrounding bleakness of the camp was unsurprising. A faint light poured through the small mesh window. Had they not just spent two years in a colorless room with no windows, the women probably would have thought it depressing.

"Knock knock!" The man called as he threw the curtain open.

The women paused behind him, waiting for the shriek and smack that was surely coming to him, but instead he was greeted with a heaving sigh and a thoroughly unimpressed, "Good evening, Howard. Have I not told you not to do that?"

The two shared an almost disappointed look before entering. The woman they assumed to be Agent Carter was seated at a small desk. She was beautiful, with sharp features topped off with bright red lipstick and a curvaceous figure. The frown she wore hinted to the fact that Howard may have had more boundary issues than they originally supposed(and they had supposed he had a lot of them).

Her gaze softened, however, when it fell on the women. It raked over them, carefully mute and unassuming as she took in their gaunt cheeks and dirtied clothes. The Agent stood, fixed her skirt and offered a hand to them. "Peggy Carter."

Salome was the first to take it. She was a few inches taller than the Agent, but then she was taller than most women she met. "Salome Lavergne."

"Maren Baudin." Maren replied, slightly bitter that she was shorter than the both of them. Still, she inclined her head respectfully. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise." Peggy lifted a brow as she glanced at Howard. "Mr. Stark, you're dismissed."

"But-"

"_Dis_. _Missed_. Mr. Stark," The woman said firmly.

Muttering under his breath, Howard left the women to no doubt slander his namesake. With him gone, Peggy's face seemed to soften. A sigh left her as she took a seat, her long legs crossing primly as she asked, "Ladies. How may I help you this evening?"

"We're just here to check on Hanna." It was Salome that answered, Maren already moving toward the tiny lump on the cot beside Peggy's own.

"You don't mind that I took her in, do you?"

Salome shook her head as she moved to stand by her friend. "Not at all."

Maren's fingers were a dark brown against washed out blue sheets and incredibly delicate as she pulled it back from the girl's covered face. Hanna's face was too thin for her age, lacking any childish baby fat or chub. Her eyes, deep in their sockets, were peacefully closed, her long dark lashes fanning out along her naturally tan cheeks. Her skin, much like her blanket, was rather washed out, but nothing to be concerned about.

A smile tugged at the blonde's lips, very faint but genuine. Her green eyes moved back to Peggy. "A question, if I may, Agent?"

"Of course."

"Just how was it you managed to swing your own quarters?" Salome asked, a grin on her lips. In truth, she wanted to ask how a woman managed to reach the position of Agent, but she supposed that would be rather rude.

The brunette chuckled. "All officers have their own quarters."

"Maybe we should join the army," Maren joked. She stepped back from the bed, her gaze lingering on the lump that was Hanna a moment before she moved to stand beside Salome. The women linked arms without so much as a glance at one another, the need to touch- to make sure the other was tangible and safe, was becoming more instinctual with each passing moment away from the cells they had been freed from.

"I'm sure you would be an asset." Peggy smiled. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

It was Maren who answered. "You wouldn't happen to know which tent our fellow captives are staying in, would you?"

"I believe they're two down, to the left." Peggy smiled and inclined her head, "I could show you if you like…"

"I'm sure we can manage," Salome told her with a wink. As they moved to leave, she stopped and patted the Agent on the shoulder. With a nod back at the girl on the bed, she licked her lips. Features tense, she said, or rather begged, "Take care of our little one. She's all we have to hope for, hm?"

With a grim expression, Peggy nodded. "I won't let her out of my sight. You have my word."

The women said no more, merely shot her a pair of sheepish smiles and slipped into the darkness. They made their way to the tent the Agent had directed, and entered without knocking. The men inside looked up in alarm. One man's cigarette actually fell from his lips. Maren and Salome shared a look and rolled their eyes at the overreaction.

"We're looking for Julien and Roman," The blonde told the enlisted men with a frown. Her green eyes flickered over them, annoyed with the gawking.

When they continued to gape at them, Maren added, "Any day now, soldiers."

One of the men stuck his thumb over his shoulder. Popping his gum, he said, "They're asleep in the back."

"So go wake them up." The shorter woman clenched her jaw. Salome squeezed the arm that was looped through her own, inadvertently stabbing her in the side with her sharp elbow. Maren frowned at her. "What?"

"Be nice, Ren," the blonde whispered. Salome put on a plastic smile, which on her hollow features was downright unsettling and turned her attention back to the men. "If you could point us in their direction, we'd be much obliged."

"They're asleep." Another man repeated condescendingly.

Salome turned to look at him. The man was tall and broad shouldered, with a sneer that made her a bit wary. Smile still tight but eyes hard, she repeated in a similar tone, "If you could point us in their direction, we'd be much obliged."

Maren mimicked her smirk beside her. The man let out a huff of laughter as he walked up to them. He let his gaze drift over them suggestively. Unsurprisingly, it lingered on the shorter woman's a bit longer than the blonde's. As he leered at them, he told them, "Look. It's real cute you girls are worried about the fellas, but you're gonna have to wait until morning if you wanna speak to them."

Maren winced as Salome dug her nails into her arm. Clearing her throat, she forced her friend to let go of it and looked up at the man(who was nearly a full foot taller than her and had at least four inches on the blonde). "Fine."

Salome tore her glare from the soldier and set it on the brunette. "What?"

"We'll be back in the morning." Maren inclined her head with a considerable amount of grace than Salome would have been able to muster. She was vaguely impressed, but mostly irritated as the other woman continued, "If we're not here when they wake up, send them to the nurses quarters."

"Will do," The man replied with a curt, fake smile.

The blonde paused as Maren moved to leave. Tapping her chin, she asked, "What's your name?"

"Hodge."

"Well, Hodge, you sir, are an ass."

With the laughter of the soldiers on her heels, Salome joined her fellow inmate outside. Maren shook her head at her friend's smirk, "You just had to get the last word in, didn't you, Mae?"

"Yes. Yes I did."


	5. Chapter 5

Most of the nurses were asleep when the women returned to the tent. The few that remained awake paid them no mind, barely sparing the two a glance as they turned in for the night. The only exception was a single young woman, who moved over to them on light, nervous feet.

"Excuse me?"

Maren looked up from turning back the sheets. The nurse was young, perhaps barely eighteen, and smiling in a way that was both incredibly friendly and clearly quite anxious. The brunette tossed Salome a look, hoping she would do the talking for her, but the blonde was already sound asleep atop the sheets of her own cot. Maren glared at her a moment, more out of jealousy than real malice before turning to the petite redhead.

"Yes?"

The young woman bounced on the heels of her feet. She held out a large bundle of clothes to her. "I just wanted to let you know that Sargent Barnes was looking for you. He brought you these."

Maren took the offered garments with a puzzled look and lifted a brow. She dropped the two pairs of boots that were placed on top of them to the cot. Holding one of the shirts at arm's length, she eyed it dubiously. It was clearly designed for a man, the shoulders of it broad, but manageable. It would probably fit Maren fine; she had always been petite, her bones delicate and narrow.

She inclined her head to the girl. "Thanks."

The nurse smiled and took another step forward. A blush across her freckled cheeks, she pointed a slim, slightly shaky, finger to the belt that was wrapped around a pair of boots. "I hope you don't mind, but I, um, I took the liberty of, you know, adding a few notches in that one. For your friend, I mean. I mean, I was just guessing, but I don't think it would've fit otherwise and…yeah."

"Oh, thanks." The former prisoner offered her a tight smile. Exhaustion was beginning to fray on her nerves and while she appreciated the girl's efforts, she was having trouble articulating that. "Good thinking."

With only a warm smile and a sheepish nod, the redhead went back to her cot.

Smile falling from her lips, Maren glanced at the sleeping woman a few feet away. Salome was tall and broad shouldered, at least for a woman. These clothes would probably be able to fit her frame, but not her size. With a small frown, Maren stripped out of her soiled prison garb and pulled one of the shirts on. The material was a bit worn under the arms, but the woman could not have been more content as she slipped into her cot.

The air was brisk and the sun was bright the next morning as the women left the nurses' quarters. It was still early, the air still relatively still with the exceptions of the few men standing guard. The enlisted men nodded their greeting to them as they passed by, and the women returned the gesture with weak cordial smiles before they continued on their way.

"I feel ridiculous," Salome muttered with flushed cheeks. She forced another smile to a passing G.I as she pulled her shirt closer to her meager body.

The blonde had found one that fit comfortably over her shoulders, which had always been a physical trait she actually liked about herself, but the result was less than acceptable. Back in Kansas, she had liked her shoulders. They were broad, yes, but they were also strong and had given her a definitive shape. A shape she no longer had thanks to HYDRA. In fact, she had liked most of how she looked before they decided to stick her in a cage and starve her for two years. Now, her form was more akin to a twig than an hourglass.

The shirt Salome wore hung off her in an almost comical manner and she felt vaguely like a small child playing dress up. Skeletal fingers tugged at the several knots she had tied at the front of the denim work shirt. Maren had suggested it as an effort to hide how large it was on her. The effort was completely wasted and Salome felt somewhat bitter about how _normal_ her friend looked by comparison. She pushed the thought away quickly; she was thankful for Maren's health, but still jealous of the swell of her hips.

"You look fine," Maren assured her. She set a hand on her friend's shoulder and gave it a careful squeeze. "Stop worrying about it so much."

"Easy for you to say," The blonde grumbled. She eyed the few remaining curves Maren had with a wry smirk. "At least you can fill out a pair of trousers. I look like a little boy."

The shorter woman offered her a sympathetic smile. "They'll come back."

"Not soon enough."

Maren gave her a gentle shove as they arrived at the tent that housed the Aristoff brothers. "Oh, hush."

They stepped into the tent without so much as a courteous knock. Given the less than admirable terms in which they had parted with the men the night before, the women supposed they should have expected a rather cool welcome. Instead, they were greeted by snores. Most of the men were still asleep. The lone exception was Roman, who was sitting on the edge of his cot, staring at his hands in a familiar way that made the women's hearts ache.

Salome cleared her throat delicately.

The elder Aristoff looked up, brown eyes frightened and, upon realizing who it was, forced a smile. As he tucked his fingers into his palms, he stood. Inclining his head, he greeted them, "Ladies."

"Gentleman," Maren teased. She glanced around the room with a hint of disgust, "How are you enjoying your new quarters?"

A more genuine smile slipped over his handsome, if not worn, features. "Well, they're certainly a step up from my last ones."

The women beamed at him. With enthusiastic agreement, they waved him forward. Roman spared his younger brother a glance. Julien was splayed out on his back, snoring obnoxiously and the elder man had to repress the urge to smack him with one of the thin lumpy things the army was trying to pass off as pillows. Realizing he wouldn't be up anytime soon, Roman followed the women out of the tent, assured his absence would go undetected.

Wincing as he stepped out into the bright sunlight, the man asked, "Is everything okay?"

Maren and Salome shared a glance. Crossing her arms, it was the former who spoke. "They're pretty insistent we get physicals."

Roman blinked at them. With a raised brow and a hint of a smirk, he teased, "Oh? Is someone worried their modesty may be offended?"

"We already had ours," Salome told him. Her hands fiddled with the series of knots on her shirt. A bit reluctantly, she warned him, "They're checking everything- including hearing."

The man sobered at that. The humor gone from his face, he looked between them as he asked, "What? Why?"

"Because apparently we're prime candidates for some kind of strange German disease," the blonde told him with a roll of her eyes. "And I assume there's just something inherently military about being overtly invasive."

"We owe those men our lives," Roman reminded her, voice firm and a bit irritated. "You should show them some respect."

Salome lifted a pale eyebrow at him. With a sneer, she scoffed at his defensiveness. "Did I say the Americans in particular? _No_. I said _military_ in a general sense."

"Easy now," Maren stepped between them, her hand going to Roman's chest and the other to Salome's shoulder, she pushed them apart. Jerking her head to the side, she told the blonde, "Mae, why don't you take a walk? See what Hanna's up to?"

With a huff, Salome did just that. She made her way to Agent Carter's tent without bothering to address any of the soldiers that shot her curious looks. To her surprise, the lovely Agent she had met the night before was not in her tent, but rather standing outside it. Nor was she alone. The brunette was speaking with a very irritated looking Colonel Phillips and the man she had met the previous day at the camp, Steve Rogers. When the woman met her gaze, Salome twiddled her fingers at her in greeting. An ill suppressed smile crossed the brunette's red lips before she turned back to Phillips.

The blonde sighed and kept her distance. Not wanting to impose on them, or anyone else, she took a seat on one of the nearby crates and sighed. Despite how deeply and soundly she had slept, exhaustion still tugged at her mind, clouding it and making her surroundings dull.

"Well," A voice broke her thoughts and she looked up to find a familiar Sargent smirking down at her. His speech had been rough, still filled with sleep, but his blue eyes were bloodshot but as warm as the sunlight on her skin and just as welcome. "Someone's up early."

The smile she returned, although weak, was natural and she inclined her head with respect. "Sargent."

"Aw, don't tell me you're still hung up over what happened last night?" The man asked, sliding to sit beside her.

With a dramatic roll of her eyes, Salome pulled her legs closer to her chest. It didn't give him much more room, but then again, she didn't exactly take up much space. Running a hand through her short blonde locks, she shrugged, "Maybe a little bitter." With a smug smirk, she told him, "I'll have you know I was quite the looker before they shaved my head and starved me for two years."

"Oh spare me." Bucky nudged her in the side. It was rougher than she expected, but she appreciated the lack of fear behind the gesture. "You're a knock out."

With a scoff, she shook her head, "Flattery won't make up for calling me _scrawny_, James."

Bucky pursed his lips. Out of his peripheral vision, he watched her rest her chin on her knee. Following her gaze to where Steve and Peggy stood, awkwardly trying to flirt with one another in the presence of the Colonel, he cleared his throat. "He was a lot like you, ya know."

Green eyes flickered over to him. Curious, the woman tilted her head. "Who?"

"Captain America over there," He replied with a grin. "Steve Rogers. He's my best pal, ya know."

_Captain America._ The name was familiar- the men who had experimented on her had spoke of him, often and with both fear and malice in their voices. Still, she wasn't entirely sure why he was telling her this. Salome gave him a light punch on the shoulder. "He's lucky to have you."

"Damn right." He beamed at her, but it didn't reach his eyes. Voice smug, but features tired, he went on, "Back in Brooklyn, I always had his back. I always had to have his back- the kid got in more fights than Joe Louis."

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. "Who?"

"He's a boxer."

"Oh." The blonde nodded. She glanced over at Steve and Peggy. They were still conversing with the Colonel and Salome vaguely wondered if Hanna was still asleep. "Are you calling me aggressive, Soldier?"

"No. I'm just saying…he was small."

That got her attention.

With her gaze back on him, somewhat puzzled and maybe a little wary, Bucky went on. "Like, really small. A hundred pounds smoking wet and barely up to my shoulder." The smile on his lips was genuine now, and infectious, earning one of her own with merely it's presence. Bucky went on, his gaze flickering over her gaunt features as he did, "but he was scrappy. Strong. I guess seeing you laid out on that gurney reminded me of him."

The blonde opened her mouth to make a snide comment, but the look on his face made her pause. His mouth was tight now, his eyes slightly glazed over and his gaze distant and she simply listened as he finished his thought.

"Reminded me of what it was like when someone needed me." Bucky met her gaze and forced a weak smile. "I shouldn't have fawned over you like that, I just…" He shrugged in a helpless, childlike way that made her stomach turn. "Couldn't help it."

"He still needs you," Salome told him firmly. After a moment's hesitance, she put her hand on his shoulder. When he met her gaze, she smiled at him. It was brighter than he had expected, a bit softer around the eyes than he had seen before and he listened carefully as she continued, "And I do appreciate you looking out for me. I am scrawny."

The Sargent opened his mouth- to apologize and to assure her she wasn't, but the woman didn't give him a chance to.

"Physically, I am weak." Her features hardened, growing confident and almost bold as she squared her shoulders. "But I don't intend on staying this way."

Bucky blinked. In the harsh light of the early morning sun, he could see the fragile bones beneath her sallow skin more clearly, but he could also see how she held herself. Her head high and proud, gaze level and fierce and all at once he was struck by her. He wasn't sure what the feeling was exactly, nothing so brazen as lust or desire, but perhaps an immature infatuation. Something surely affectionate with perhaps a bit of morbid fascination for the young woman with a weak body and strong will.

"Stop staring at me." Her voice jarred him back to reality. His features were more annoyed, and perhaps a bit amused, and she pinched his cheek with bony fingers. "I suppose I could let you dote on me until I get my strength back. So long as you don't _expect_ anything for my gracious behavior."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Well, don't do me any favors, Sal."

"I wasn't planning to," She told him with a cheeky smirk. The Colonel had finally left, taking Steve along with him and Peggy was watching the couple on the crate with a curious smirk on her painted red lips. Slipping off the crate in question, she glanced at him. His head had dropped and she lifted his chin to meet her gaze. Green eyes flickering over the heavy bags under his bright blue ones, she told him, "You should try and get some sleep, Sargent. You look like hell."

"Well, don't sugar coat it for me." He chuckled.

Salome smirked at him and let her hand fall. Tucking it into the pocket of her baggy trousers, she replied with a shrug, "You called me scrawny. We're passed that."

As she turned to leave, he closed his eyes. Dreading the words before they left his mouth, he spoke in a voice almost too low to hear. Maybe he was hoping she would miss it. "Hey Sal? What's your husband's name?"

The blonde paused. A confused crease in her brow and a puzzled pout on her lips, she told him, "Ezra. Why?"

"I'll look into finding him for you."

Beaming at him, Salome all but tackled him off the crate. "Oh, thank you, Jamie!"

Bucky blushed and quickly tugged her arms from around his neck. Hoping the other men hadn't seen her display, he shrugged off her glee rather easily. "Yeah, yeah, spare me the mushy stuff."

The woman continued to grin at him, nothing but pure adoration in her gaze before she nodded. "Okay. No mushy stuff." She glanced behind her to where Peggy was waiting. "I have to go, but we'll talk later, yes?"

"Yes." The soldier agreed, letting his smile slip from his mouth as she ran off.


End file.
